The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1887-03-13
WITCHCRAFT.

1OoU, the year OIL Inc I1stOratlou IueIe
came riding up to the inn of one of the
most struggling of Oxfordshire villages
well mounted young gentleman Of some
what distinguished appearance. Calling to
the ostler he gave Linn particular instruc-
tons as to the treatment of his horse, and,
ordering the best bed and supper the land
lady could provide, retired for time to his
room, desiring to be allied when the meal
was ready.
In about an hour the supper was on the
table and the stranger sat down to it. He
had evidently come from distance-the
state of his horse showed that-and the
way he did justice to the landlady's cookery
proved that he must have been remarkably
hungry. The good woman was in truth
rather alarmed at the rapidity with which
he disposed of what she set before him.
He was a we'll built young fellow, of
about Is or 10, with broad brow and
strangely piercing eyes that seemed to fol-
low her about the room, and look through
her to the wall each time she caught their
gaze. For about half an hour he was silent
.
pleasant and likeable; and when she left
him to himself the dame had rather taken
fancy to him.
ENHad she known how he was situated her
thoughts might haue gone another road
For the distinguished stranger was gen.
tleman commoner of Oriel, who, with his
choice companions, had been trying little
amateur highway robbery, and failing to
find victim had come on here alone with
out penny in his pocket, trusting to what
might turn up to furnish him with the
means of paying his bill.
AS soon as he was alone he left the table
and took his chair to the fire. He began
to think over his position. His thoughts
were not encouraging. He had been living
what was wild college life even in those
wild days. and his family had almost given
him up. His father-a bencher of Gray's
Inns and country magnate of some infu-
ence-was an eccentric man of strong will,
never known to go back on his word; and
in his last letter he had given the son
clearly to understand that his patience was
exhausted. AS to money, he had sent him
enough for some time; and as to SAC
scompts," he wsuld be responsible for none
latter the date of this my last letter unless
We amend" He had not amended; he had
gone further and failed.
No wonder, then, that his meditations
were unsatisfactory. He knew that he was
not fool-his experiences with his fellow
students had taught him that-and fo1tu-
nately on this occasion self conceit came
to his rescue.
sMy father and mother" he said to him.
self-at least he said years afterward that
he said to himself, for he as not an I'M
known man-''my father and mother are
better gifted than those they meet, and /
am very like them. have the old mans
voice and my mothers eyes. see things
as quickly as they do, end mind them as
well. And here l have been for two years
with the chance of. getting what would
give me living if the old people were to
throw me ever, and what have done?"
What had he done, indeed He had ac-
.quired a thin coat of university varnish
This is not a work of Imagination, and
we will net enlarge en- the students recog-
milton of his folly. The conclusion he
came to was the ordinary one, quite the
ordinary one: ''Let me get out of this
trouble and I will never get into another"
But how was he to get out of this trouble?
He could not help liking the CHEEKY, brisk
little woman whom he had come-disguise
it as he might-to swindle. He had eaten
his supper; that did not trouble him SO
much, for it was obvious that if he was to
be honest be must live. But how was he
to pay for it! The horse was not his; to
leave it would be to rob Peter to pay Paul.
He was in the same fix with his clothes.
The idea of doing little wrong to do
great right, on the Bassanio principle, oc-
'cHrred to him, and was rejected.
mo; I'll be honest, and / II be thorough"
he sid; and, resolving to be very good and
very superior to everything and every one
he met, he strobe up and down the room.
'.I'li go and see mine hostess" said he;
ssmay be something will happen to me-"
And something did happen which played
sad havoc with his good resolutions.
Entering the kitchen, he found seated
by the fire, a frail, weary looking girl of
thirteen whom the landlady introduced to
him as her daughter.
''Sick of bad ague; waiting for the ft,
which will come to her tonight"
''Has she been thus for long?" asked the
student.
ga year this MichaeImas, said the land
lady; s'and never lsech can cure her.
have tried them all the country round. and
raid for them we'll, but there sits the poor
child, growing worse and worse, and surely
shaking into her grave
s,What does her father say2 Is there
none in London that could tell you what
TO dof"
ssHer father, sir, has been dead these
three years. I am poor widow, and have
spent all he left me in trying to cure the
child, but it is of no avail. Poor jess! poor
Jess" a
The stranger looked troubled-as he was.
To ride away from an inn without paying
bis bill was bad enough, but to cheat poor
widow 10 distress, for whose sick child she
had sacrificed her very means of living,
was-well, the act of scoundrel.
.Aiel; he felt thoroughly ashamed of him
self. So genuine was his shame that it
might be thought he was fairly on the path
of reformation and would thenceforward
keep to it. But it was not so with him; and